As a reader of this blog, surely you've been inspired by the teens driving the #NeverAgain movement which has since flourished since the massacre at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High in Parkland, Florida. In the aftermath of such a traumatic experience, these students have displayed incredible grace, respect, intelligence, wisdom, determination, and maturity. Surely any school, especially the more mission-driven among independent schools, would want to claim them as students. In fact, I've wondered about what a fantastic place MSD must be to produce such students.
The students have drawn the admiring support of other students, adults, celebrities, journalists, businesses. Some of that is due to who they are and how they are conducting themselves. Much of it is due to our having finally had enough with school shootings I think it's also snapped our eyes more fully open to what these school shootings--and all the tangential issues connected to them--say about our nation.
As I've watched these kids in amazement, I've also found myself worrying about them. Right now they are surfing along on a crest of adrenaline, which all of the media attention keeps refueling. While it has lasted longer than usual, at some point it will end. What then? Even if it were not to end for a long time, at some point these people--not just the kids, but the adults there--will have to stop long enough to grieve and mourn and recover, likely with ongoing therapeutic assistance. When the overwhelming support becomes more muted, how will they handle the despicable vitriol some were already spewing towards them? I want them to grow into the healthy, passionate, thriving adults they show all the potential of becoming--the adults our culture needs.
What if their movement fails to make significant difference? What if another school massacre happens? (Sadly, I feel as if I should write "when another one happens.") Would that deepen the psycho-spiritual wounds? Will it steel their resolve, or will it burst their optimism? Will it say to these kids that once again the older generations have failed them? While we may feel as if a tide has turned, resolving tough issues in times of extreme rancor is a gargantuan task.
So I hope we remember that these are kids. They are rising to this occasion, partially because they lack the life experience to know that they aren't supposed to be able to make all this happen. That lets them operate with a certain derring-do, but they are going to slip at times. (Yes, they are acting better than many adults.) Meanwhile, are we, in our guilt and desperation, putting too much on them? Yes, follow their leadership; revel in their passion; voice your admiration. But please don't make them into messiahs who are going to resolve the sins of older generations. They don't need that at a time they are determining the destiny of their own generation. We can't abdicate our responsibilities for the past, the present, or the future.
So, yes, I want their movement to work. I want new, effective legislation. I want it not just about guns, but about many things. And it's more than new laws. I want us regain our civility and our virtues. I crave leadership that unites and inspires. I want equity and justice. I hope we can discern the light shining in each person.
Even after all the school shootings since Columbine, kids still believe our world can become better and better and better. If education is really going to matter, we have to support them in those efforts. That's true not just for the Parkland kids. It's true for all kids.
Monday, February 26, 2018
An Educator's Hopes after #Parkland
Labels:
character,
citizenship,
education,
future,
ISAS,
leadership,
mission,
NAIS,
St. John's Episcopal School Dallas
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
Take a Bullet?
Throughout most of my career--I began teaching in 1983--the question would have seemed absurd. I don't think it would ever have come up in an education class, and I can't see undergraduates chewing on it during a bull session in the dorm. Perhaps the only place I could have imagined it would have been contemplated is in a philosophy class focused on ethics, one of those topics such as "Is it wrong to steal if your family is starving?"
The question: Would you take a bullet for a student?
Once again, people who work in education must struggle with that gut-wrenching question as we grieve over yet another school shooting where an adult did just that.
Is there a right or wrong answer? If there is, it eludes me. At one of the schools where my wife worked, they were told to decide on their answer to this question so they would have the choice made in case the situation ever arose. I doubt that works. We can believe something intellectually, but I'm not sure it would hold in such a terrifying, adrenaline-packed event. Instinct likely would kick in. Plus I think the details of one's one life shift in ways that affect the answer. Before I was married and had children, I probably would have said yes. Once I had children, likely not. Now that they are 18 and 21, well on their way, perhaps. I want to believe that I would. That I could. But I'm not so sure. Do any of these answers make me a lesser person? Would I expect more of another educator for my kids than this? What should we expect? The work, when done right, already wrings plenty of raw emotion out of caring people. Now this former nightmare has become a common reality, so much so that it fades from the headlines more quickly than Columbine did. There was an entire book written about that tragedy; now the media moves on after a few days...until the next one. We drill and train, hoping that it might help, telling our students it's just a drill and they don't need to be scared, knowing they know the truth. Each time we practice, each time the tragedy strikes, it feels even more possible that it could happen to us.
I don't know how one erases that fear. Arming teachers is not the answer. Even greater, stricter security measures might help, but I don't think it's an answer. We don't want our schools beginning to resemble prisons. Providing resources for how to talk to children about tragedy feels like mere salve on much deeper wounds. With the number of guns already available through various means, I think that only lessens the odds somewhat.The political system seems so gridlocked and self-serving that we can't count on anyone there.
In the wake of the Parkland shootings, some have argued that "things feel different this time." I agree in some ways. Much of that has to do with the reaction of the students, who have responded with fierce determination to bring about change. It's pictures and videos of gun advocates destroying their weapons. Of course, we've seen various hashtag movements through the years that eventually simply echoed through the vastness of cyberspace. And already some have begun trolling survivors and their family. I've even seen some invoking conspiracy theories. It's all too reminiscent of Sandy Hook--the school shooting which was supposed to be the final straw.
Meanwhile, when educators should be focused on figuring how to help their students become their best possible selves, we have to think about survival tactics. We have to ask ourselves, Would you take a bullet for a student? Could you? That no longer just seems absurd. It is absurd. And we risk school becoming another performance in the Theater of the Absurd.
Labels:
education,
ISAS,
leadership,
NAIS,
St. John's Episcopal School Dallas,
teaching
Monday, February 12, 2018
Coherence amid Dissonance
We could argue about whether we live in a time of continuous change, discontinuous change, extreme disruption, accelerated change, disequilibrium, volatility...no matter what term we apply, the reality holds. The new normal would seem to demand that we count on nothing as normal. We're having to reconsider most of our assumptions, although perhaps we're not actually acting fast enough. But many feel as if they are adapting as quickly as they can. In schools we're asking questions about all sorts of time-honored practices, many of them the more technical aspects of education, such as curriculum design and assessment.
Lately I've been thinking about a deeper question, one I'm not sure I've seen explored extensively (although I'm certain it has been). From the start of my career, I've heard about the importance of curricular coherence. When I was a curriculum person, I focused on it. Now, I'm struggling with the concept. Indeed, struggling that may lead to this post being anything but coherent.
Before I go any further, I should clarify that I'm not talking about coherence in the traditional scope-and-sequence sense. I've never believed in that for some simple reasons. It assumes that once a teacher presents something, a student has learned it. It fosters anxiety within a heightened pace, the idea being that so much must be "covered" by year's end, a student in a sense "finished." It negates flexibility in response to student needs and interests. It also adds to what may be the difficult part of innovating, which is forgetting what's already in place. Every new idea becomes measured versus what exists.
Somewhat ironically, that ties to the strongest argument for a coherent and firm scope-and sequence. Learning involves, both literally and metaphorically, constructing schema in which new pieces fit onto existing frameworks that create sense. We also have to think about developmental readiness. In its essence, learning means developing a sense of coherence.
Creating a coherent curriculum used to be a fairly simple endeavor, really. Yes, it took time and a certain degree of expertise. Well, simple at least in relative terms. But think about some of the ways things have changed, particularly over the last thirty years, with increasing rapidity. School used to be about content; now it should be about learning skills and conceptual understanding. Success pointed at standardized measures; now it should be about softer things. Closed cultures could focus on a canon; now we should be considering diversity, equity, and inclusion. Paper and pencil were the timeless tools; now we should be harnessing ever-more-powerful technology. The schoolhouse used to be an intellectual sanctuary; now we should be connecting students to the real world. Overall, we have to rethink everything. And then remake everything. Continually.
In such a world, how does one achieve a coherent program? How do students piece things together in a way that works? What holds it all together? Can anything? What should? Does something need to? I think so...but we must think of that in different ways also. It's why we have to be reconsidering not just all the usual minutiae of schooling, but the very essence of our missions and what they now should mean.
Besides, sometimes I wonder who really craves the coherent scope-and-sequence. Perhaps the adults want it more than the students. For us it's a convenience that in many ways makes teaching easier, like the student who wants to know exactly what will be on the test. It provides a degree of certainty, of clear direction, of control. We can delude ourselves with the notion that coverage equates success.
Most schools, especially now, say they want to instill a love of learning for a lifetime (or some similar aspiration). They explain that learning how to learn is the real goal. I don't disagree. But sometimes learning is easier than at other times, particularly when tings have been laid out too clearly and predictably for you. Perhaps the truer--and likely more fun--challenge is discovering how to create one's own coherence when less and less seems to make sense.
Lately I've been thinking about a deeper question, one I'm not sure I've seen explored extensively (although I'm certain it has been). From the start of my career, I've heard about the importance of curricular coherence. When I was a curriculum person, I focused on it. Now, I'm struggling with the concept. Indeed, struggling that may lead to this post being anything but coherent.
Before I go any further, I should clarify that I'm not talking about coherence in the traditional scope-and-sequence sense. I've never believed in that for some simple reasons. It assumes that once a teacher presents something, a student has learned it. It fosters anxiety within a heightened pace, the idea being that so much must be "covered" by year's end, a student in a sense "finished." It negates flexibility in response to student needs and interests. It also adds to what may be the difficult part of innovating, which is forgetting what's already in place. Every new idea becomes measured versus what exists.
Somewhat ironically, that ties to the strongest argument for a coherent and firm scope-and sequence. Learning involves, both literally and metaphorically, constructing schema in which new pieces fit onto existing frameworks that create sense. We also have to think about developmental readiness. In its essence, learning means developing a sense of coherence.
Creating a coherent curriculum used to be a fairly simple endeavor, really. Yes, it took time and a certain degree of expertise. Well, simple at least in relative terms. But think about some of the ways things have changed, particularly over the last thirty years, with increasing rapidity. School used to be about content; now it should be about learning skills and conceptual understanding. Success pointed at standardized measures; now it should be about softer things. Closed cultures could focus on a canon; now we should be considering diversity, equity, and inclusion. Paper and pencil were the timeless tools; now we should be harnessing ever-more-powerful technology. The schoolhouse used to be an intellectual sanctuary; now we should be connecting students to the real world. Overall, we have to rethink everything. And then remake everything. Continually.
In such a world, how does one achieve a coherent program? How do students piece things together in a way that works? What holds it all together? Can anything? What should? Does something need to? I think so...but we must think of that in different ways also. It's why we have to be reconsidering not just all the usual minutiae of schooling, but the very essence of our missions and what they now should mean.
Besides, sometimes I wonder who really craves the coherent scope-and-sequence. Perhaps the adults want it more than the students. For us it's a convenience that in many ways makes teaching easier, like the student who wants to know exactly what will be on the test. It provides a degree of certainty, of clear direction, of control. We can delude ourselves with the notion that coverage equates success.
Most schools, especially now, say they want to instill a love of learning for a lifetime (or some similar aspiration). They explain that learning how to learn is the real goal. I don't disagree. But sometimes learning is easier than at other times, particularly when tings have been laid out too clearly and predictably for you. Perhaps the truer--and likely more fun--challenge is discovering how to create one's own coherence when less and less seems to make sense.
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